


You're Just Too Good to be True

by serohtonin



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bullying, College, Eventual Romance, First Meetings, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 19:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/pseuds/serohtonin
Summary: Chris transfers to the University of Michigan for the spring of 2009 semester and finds much more than he ever imagined, including a newfound crush. But will that crush blossom or will it crush him? Title taken from the song "Can't Take my Eyes off of You" by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beanieklaine (princeissy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeissy/gifts).



> Written for the 2018 Crisscolfer Valentine's Day Gift Exchange for [ beanieklaine,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/beanieklaine/pseuds/beanieklaine) who prompted College!CC. This is what I came up with. Hope you like it! 
> 
> Also thanks to [klaineunite](http://klaineunite.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing this so quickly and being a great sounding board and cheerleader!
> 
> Though inspired by certain canonical facts, I do not claim any of this story or the relationships mentioned herein to be true. I also do not own any of the people or the rights to the characters mentioned, whether real or fictional, and I do not own the rights to any songs, films, or other creative works mentioned. All are the intellectual property of their respective owners.

“Remind me why you chose this place again.”

Hannah’s staring at Chris, her teeth chattering and her hands full with a box of supplies meant to go on Chris’ desk in his dorm room.

She, and their parents, are helping him move in at the University of Michigan at the start of the spring semester, which, contradictory to its name, starts in January. He transferred from a community college back in Clovis after earning some credits there. So, after enjoying the beautiful weather of his hometown, the only redeeming quality of the place, he’s here, shivering in his light jacket in Ann Arbor.

“It has a good program for creative writing and I wanted to get the hell out of that cowtown,” Chris explains, taking the box from her hands. “No offense. I love you but not our town.”

“Thank you. None taken. At least someone is getting out of there. I’m still stuck with Mom and Dad for a few more years at least.” She groans and opens the door on the back driver’s side of their parents’ rental car. “Do you need some more help bringing stuff in?”

“I have a backpack that should be back there,” Chris tells her. 

She emerges with a backpack stuffed so full that it looks almost as big as her teenage frame. “Bubba, you didn’t tell me that this bag would be twice my weight. What is in here?”

Chris sighs. “Just leave it for now and get my suitcase. It’s only on rollers. And close the car door when you’re done.”

“Why? It’s only going to freeze shut.”

“Just do it, Han.” 

He rolls his eyes and turns away, back toward the building, where the door is thankfully propped open to help all the new transfer students easily move in. He walks through the door and down the hall onto the first floor where his room is. He had been stuck in one of the vacant spots left for housing with a roommate who had already moved in last semester. He hadn’t even met the other student yet, whose side was empty. This left him wondering why the spot he had landed in was empty in the first place and what had happened to the roommate that was there before him. Chris wasn’t sure if he wanted to know but he did know that it was going to be difficult enough to get settled in in the middle of an academic year. He didn’t need any roommate drama.

He didn’t tell his parents those fears; he just wanted them to leave so he could enjoy what little quiet he had left until his roommate arrived. But as soon as Hannah arrived in his room with the suitcase and his father retrieved his backpack, his mother suggested they go out to lunch. He indulged her, since he knew it might be his last good meal in a long time, and he would probably miss his family.

After eating, the Colfers drop Chris off in the parking lot of his dorm with a tearful goodbye. Hannah hugs him tight and so does his mother. Chris takes in the flowery scent of her perfume and feels nostalgic for when he tucked his face into her neck every time she put him to bed as a child. 

Still, he watches them drive off in their rental car back to the hotel where they’re staying before they have to leave the next day. He enters his dorm with a sigh, hoping that maybe his life could really start.

He could explore this campus, study his true passion and possibly make friends, or even find someone who could be more than a friend in the coming weeks ahead. 

At least one part of his thoughts seem to be answered when he sees a boy with curly hair waiting at his door and holding a clipboard. As he gets closer, the boy turns to look at him with piercing hazel eyes and a grin that seems too big for his face.

“Christopher, right?” He asks when Chris stops in front of his destination. “Christopher P. Colfer?”

Chris blinks at him and raises his eyebrows. “Who wants to know?”

The boy holds out his free hand. “Darren. Darren Criss. Nice to meet you.”

Chris glances down at the offer. “Who are you? Are you my roommate?”

“Oh, sorry. I, um, I’m your RA. Resident Advisor. Otherwise known as the resident buzzkill if you’re breaking dorm rules. I’m supposed to make sure all the new transfers are here and shit. Stuff, I mean. Plus, I like to just meet everyone. Nice to put the name to a face.”

“Do you always talk this much?”

Darren laughs, still holding out his hand awkwardly. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

“I’m a writer. I’m naturally curious.”

Darren considers him for a moment, his eyes wandering up and down Chris’ face and lingering on his mouth. “Huh. You don’t say. That’s pretty rad. I’m a writer, too. Songs mostly. Shitty ones.”

Chris’ stomach flips at the way Darren’s cheeks flush and how his long eyelashes flutter down for a moment. But he tamps down the feeling, as he’s learned to do over the last several years.

Chris shrugs. “That’s cool, I guess.”

“You know, I might play some in the lounge sometime,” Darren suggests. “Or in my room. My door’s always open. Two down from yours, on the other side of the hallway.” Darren points behind him with his thumb.

“Okay.” Chris smiles. “Thanks, Darren.”

“Anytime you need anything, let me know.” Darren winks and his hand falls to his side.

But then, Chris suddenly decides to reach out and offer his own hand. When Darren takes it, Chris notices that his hand is warm if a little rough, but his grip is firm and strong. Chris sucks in a deep breath and wonders if Darren is this friendly to everyone who’s new.

It’s probably just official procedure for him to do this, even if Chris can’t help staring at the way the giant maize-colored logo of the school stretches across Darren’s very tight t-shirt.

When Darren lets go, Chris blushes, hoping he wasn’t caught. 

If he has been, Darren kindly ignores it and looks down for a second before holding Chris’ gaze. 

“Again, nice to meet you,” Darren adds before taking a pen from out of his hair, clicking the pen and marking something down on the clipboard.

Then Darren turns on his heel, ready to walk back to his room.

“Darren?” 

He looks back. “Yeah?”

“You can call me Chris.”

Darren clutches the clipboard to his chest with one arm and puts a thumb up, showing Chris. “Got it! Awesome!”

He watches Darren’s retreating form, letting himself focus on how Darren’s ass fills out his jeans. He chuckles wryly as he pulls out his room key out of his pocket.

It’s going to be a rough semester.

—-

Chris goes to bed early that night to wake up for his first class at 8 am, but he tosses and turns, unable to fall asleep. Meanwhile, his roommate, Joey, a sophomore who moved in while he was at lunch, is snoring, which doesn’t help matters. Chris doesn’t want to turn on the light to write in his notebook like he normally would when he couldn’t sleep. He doesn’t feel brave enough to venture into the lounge, either, because he might encounter other people. 

So he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and debating his options. Then he gets up and swallows down an entire bottle of water from the mini-fridge his mother insisted on buying him. He sighs and sits at his desk, wondering if the soft glow from his laptop would radiate across the room and wake Joey, or if he should just play that new Angry Birds game on his phone. 

Finally, he stands up and stretches, realizing that he needs to relieve himself after all that water. He opens his door, risking human contact as he braves the hallway to go to the bathroom shared by the all guys on this floor. 

The hallway is dimly lit and he can hear a guy laughing on the other side of the door in the room next to his. Then he walks past another room and notices a streak of bright light on the floor. He looks up at the slightly ajar door to read a paper sign labeled “Resident Advisor” in large, black capital letters; there’s scribbling in pink letters underneath that reads “Darren.” There’s also a drawing of music notes taped next to the left side of the sign, drama and comedy theatre masks next the right side, and a small flag of Italy above the sign. Chris studies these symbols, recognizing that one is for Darren’s apparent love of music and maybe the others represent his interests or his heritage. 

He files away the universal symbol for theatre as something they might have in common; Chris participated in community theater back home as a child. Then he even went on a few auditions to Los Angeles throughout his childhood and adolescence but nothing panned out, casting directors always smiling politely and dismissing him after they let him say a few lines. He gave up the dream of acting in favor of his other love, writing. Still, he enjoyed the stage and Broadway shows, but as a spectator. He is still considering taking a drama class or two here at school next semester though. So he considers asking Darren about it in a week or two perhaps, if he can get the courage to talk to him.

With this, he goes into the bathroom and thankfully, no one is around. However, when Chris is done, he stands at the sink, washing his hands, and he hears a low humming. He shuts the water off to listen more closely. 

_“Brushing your teeth is awesome, brushing your teeth is cool. Brushing your teeth is the right thing to do...”_

His eyes widen as he recognizes the singing voice as Darren’s from earlier. The lyrics may be silly but Darren’s voice is as smooth as honey, as pleasing to the ears as Darren’s face is to his eyes.

He shakes his head, willing the idea away, but he can’t help remembering Darren’s smile or the warmth of his hand. He quietly curses, realizing that Darren is the worst person to develop a crush on, other than perhaps his roommate. Darren is slightly older and probably has a girlfriend or at least goes on tons of dates, not to mention he is sort of in charge of Chris in a way. He should not be contemplating if Darren is still wearing those jeans, loose sweats, or boxers that hug his undoubtedly thick thighs. 

So he decides to shake off his damp hands and tiptoe out of the bathroom before he gets noticed and before all the blood rushes to his groin with thoughts of Darren’s thighs. He glances at the streak of light from Darren’s room as he sneaks back down the hallway and hears Darren still humming with no discernible words now.

He grins and wonders if any other songs of Darren’s are better than the one he heard.

Maybe he’ll find out.

He lays back down to close his eyes, those dumb lyrics stuck in his head right before he drifts off to sleep.

—-

The next night he’s still awake around eleven o’clock with the overhead lights on. Joey isn’t there but Chris is awake, sitting on his bed and reading _A Tale of Two Cities_ for his class on Victorian era novelists. He’s two-thirds of the way through the first page when he’s distracted by a faint strumming from across the hall. He could block it out and get back to reading his book, or he could investigate it under the guise of having to use the restroom. He has an idea of where and who it could be coming from, but he can’t resist the urge to check it out. 

So he throws his book down onto the mattress and ventures out into the hallway, that familiar beam of light streaming out from Darren’s room. The playing gets louder as he gets closer. Chris recognizes that it’s a guitar melody that sounds familiar. He doesn’t quite figure out what the song is until Darren starts singing the words:

_“Unbelievable sights, indescribable feelings. Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling, through an endless diamond sky. A whole new world.”_

His voice soars on the last line, sounding more heartfelt than he did last night with his casual impromptu lyrics. Chris wonders why he chose this song, a duet, to sing by himself. Does he love Disney? Is it for class? Or is it for someone special?

He wants to find out what Darren likes and loves, what makes him tick, and why he plays music. He wants to know everything, but he can’t if he just stays outside Darren’s door.

But can he risk getting to know someone like Darren, who’s talented, friendly, and beautiful, someone who could hurt Chris without even realizing it? What if Chris’ feelings grow and he has to come out to Darren? Or worse, what if Darren outs him because he doesn’t return his affections?

Darren doesn’t seem cruel or judgmental, but Chris really doesn’t know him. Should he even try to know him?

All these thoughts overwhelm Chris so he heads back down the hall to his room to focus on Charles Dickens’ take on the French Revolution.

Maybe Darren would accept him but maybe he wouldn’t. If he had to live with the latter the rest of the semester, it would crush his dreams of college being different from his ridiculously narrow-minded hometown. 

But maybe he’s just being pessimistic, he thinks as he closes the door to his room. Maybe Darren will surprise him. Maybe other people will too.

Until then, he has Charles Dickens and a rough draft of a term paper to start outlining soon.

—-

Chris has been so engrossed in his studies, however, that two weeks later, Joey tells him he should be having more fun.

“C’mon, man. It’s what college is all about. It’s not all studying and classes and stupid term papers,” Joey exclaims as he strolls in from class, notebook and pen in hand.

“Says the theater major who barely has to write term papers,” Chris scoffs, his copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ open to the end of the first chapter, along with his notebook next to it.

Joey throws his notebook on his bed and points at Chris with his pen. “Hey, my major is still hard work and I have had to write papers. They’re called gen ed classes, Chris. And I do have a minor studying global media. That requires extensive written analysis.”

“Fine. You got me there,” Chris concedes, clicking his own pen. “I should still get back to work.”

“You should come to this party tonight. It’s Thursday night, dude.”

“I have class in the morning,” he tells Joey, not looking up from his notes.

“We all do,” Joey counters. “But it’s, like, the unofficial start of the weekend. It’d be good for you to meet new people since you didn’t have orientation or go through the fall semester with your graduating class.”

“I have a course for new transfers that introduces me to all the stuff I need to know. Plus, I went on a campus tour ages ago before I applied here.”

He visited the school in the fall and had a campus map but he didn’t want to admit that he still got lost looking for the Student Union.

Joey sighs and chucks his pen onto his bed. “That’s not good enough. You need to get to know what the real college experience is like, and that includes parties. I mean, even if you don’t like it, you should still try it. College is all about experimentation, finding yourself and shit. Studying is part of that but so is going out of your comfort zone and doing stuff you’re afraid to do. Just try it, Chris.”

Chris looks up at Joey’s pout and his wide, brown eyes. God, what is it about the boys on this floor that have Chris swooning in an instant?

He shakes that notion away quickly, chalking it up to Joey most likely putting his acting skills to good use.

But, maybe Joey has a point. He should try what he’s always been afraid to do. After all, no one here really knows him yet and he can try being himself. If it doesn’t work out, the campus is big enough that no one will remember, or at least, they’ll be too drunk to remember.

Chris clicks his pen again and tosses it down onto his notebook. “Fine, but only because your little monologue inspired me.”

“Ooh, look at you, getting fancy with your literary terms. You need to cut down on that book learning, kid.” Joey laughs.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Who got into college, apparently.”

“Quit while you’re ahead.” Chris raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m going to the party, aren’t I?” 

“You can thank me later, when you’re getting laid.” Joey raises his eyebrows suggestively in return.

Chris blushes and tries not to think about Darren’s lips, his voice, or his face.

Chris chuckles wryly. “Somehow I doubt it.”

“Just put your book away and go shower before the stalls get all gross. You have a party to go to, Chris.”

Joey might be right, Chris realizes. Shower stalls are limited and the water gets cold at night; the maintenance people won’t come to clean the building until early tomorrow morning. If he does go to this party and doesn’t chicken out, he wants to look good, whether or not there’s anyone there that he wants to impress, like Darren.

“I will, right after I finish these notes,” Chris declares.

Joey crashes onto his own bed with a smile, clearly pleased with himself. “They grow up so fast,” he mutters, more to himself than to Chris.

For his part, Chris scrawls a couple more notes for his term paper outline and then closes his book and notebook, already mentally debating what he should wear tonight.

He can’t believe he’s going to his first college party. Perhaps his life really is starting and tonight will be the first wild ride.

—-

He does have to get clean first, though.

Joey is still in their room, now listening to music through his headphones, loud enough for Chris to hear. So, luckily, Joey isn’t really paying attention. Still, Chris opens the door to his wardrobe and changes out of his clothes behind it, carefully grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself before he takes his shower caddy basket full of all the stuff he needs with him. 

Then he opens the door to his room, shuts it behind himself, and races past the bathroom stalls to the three compartments that pass for showers; they’re not very private since they’re only separated by a curtain that doesn’t even reach the floor and only blocks one from seeing the chest and indecent areas of the body. Thus, Chris avoids the area at peak times, like early in the morning or early evening, instead showering late at night when no one tends to be there; it’s definitely not an excuse to hear Darren’s singing or guitar playing from across the hall. At least that’s what he tells himself.

But right now, there are two people occupying their respective showers and one empty stall on the far end. Chris almost turns around and walks out. The fear of looking like a complete mess at the party he’s going to far outweighs the potential embarrassment of being caught half or fully naked in the shower, however, so he tiptoes down to the small space left at the end and sets his stuff down on the tiny bench inside the stall. Then he slips out of his towel and slips his arm out of the curtain to hang the towel up on the hook on the wall.

He cleans and rinses his body as quickly and thoroughly as he can, trying to ignore the pair of feet peeking from underneath the partition next to his. He does the same while running shampoo and then conditioner through his hair. Despite the anxiety coursing through him, he perfunctorily washes his face too, still wary of the breakouts he’s prone to getting. He breathes a sigh of relief as he switches off the water and reaches for his towel. Now, he just has to trek across the no-man’s-land of the bathroom and he’ll be free.

But after he wraps his towel tightly around his waist and picks up his shower caddy from the bench, a familiar voice drifts across the tiled walls.

He doesn’t recognize the lyrics though.

 _“Back to witches and wizards and magical beasts. To ghosts and something and something and feasts. It’s all that I something, something, something..._ Damn it.”

It’s Darren, singing about something magical and then breaking off into a curse. He wonders if this is a self-penned tune and what it’s about. He stays frozen there, lost in thought, feeling like he heard something he shouldn’t have. But he can’t move, because Darren is on the other side of that stall, naked, and could catch him leaving at any moment. Yet, if Chris stands here and Darren looks over, he might get caught anyway and Darren could think he’s staring in hopes of catching a glimpse of him.

And now, Chris is thinking about it, the expanse of Darren’s olive-toned skin that Chris has barely seen, on full display, with droplets of water streaming down his arms, chest and back, until they reach that perky ass of his or his balls and cock. He knows Darren isn’t a tall guy but imagines that he’s in perfect proportion down there, with a vein bulging from the underside that Chris could just lick, and - Wow, he needs to leave before the arousal stirring in him becomes so visible that he can’t casually walk down the hall. 

So he thinks of puppies and his Catholic granny as he pushes open the front of his curtain, willing his not-so-angelic thoughts about Darren away. Sure enough, he glances over, that mop of black, curly hair sticking out from the top of the adjacent partition. Chris is almost in the clear except when he’s right outside his shower, the stall next to him bursts open. Darren is standing there, dripping wet, a towel hanging low on his hips as he clutches his own basket of shower essentials. 

Darren’s warm, hazel eyes flit across Chris’ face, and lower for a second if Chris isn’t mistaken. Then, a soft smile graces Darren’s pretty mouth, that Chris is most certainly not thinking about kissing.

“Hey, Chris, fancy meeting you here.”

Chris feels his whole body flushing pink and looks down at the floor. “I, um, yeah. There wasn’t any other good time to come here today so I had to do it now.”

“Right. I get it. No time like the present.” Darren chuckles. “You’d think they’d have more than three stalls in here. Or that there would be actual stalls.”

“It is kind of weird, yeah.” Chris’ eyes dart around and he catches sight of Darren’s hipbone peeking out from beneath the towel. He needs to get out of here before his raging teenage hormones betray him.

But Darren keeps talking. “Sorry about the singing,” he apologizes. “Been working on this new thing. Still don’t have all the words down.”

“That’s fine,” Chris assures, trying to focus on Darren’s eyes and not the tiny hairs surrounding his nipples. “I don’t think I could write songs.”

Darren laughs. “I’m not sure I can, either, but I’ve been trying for a few years now. It takes practice.”

“I guess singing does too. I’ve tried my hand at it and you’re way better than me,” Chris admits, looking back up at Darren’s eyes.

Darren’s mouth falls open and then shuts briefly before speaking. “Oh, yeah? I’d love to be the judge of that some time.”

“Maybe you can be,” Chris says despite himself.

He hasn’t sung since his failed auditions last summer for some TV pilot he barely had a chance at scoring anyway. But imagining Darren’s voice with his, perhaps along with that guitar, makes him want to try singing again.

One side of Darren’s mouth curves into a crooked grin and Chris notices a hint of scruff forming at Darren’s jaw. The heat inside Chris flickers once more, an indication that he definitely needs to leave before he starts thinking again.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” Chris adds. “Great to see you.”

Darren studies up and down Chris’ frame before he answers, “Yeah, you, too.”

Chris rushes out of there, quietly cursing and then slamming the door to his room behind him once he gets there. He needs to shut down this burgeoning crush before it crushes him, revealing his sexuality to Darren and perhaps the entire first floor of his dorm, if not the rest of the building at least.

But how can he get rid of these feelings when he’s seen Darren’s bare chest, water sliding perfectly down the middle between his nipples to that trail of hair right below his belly button?

He is so screwed.

—-

So he makes it his mission to get drunk and get Darren out of his head once and for all.

After he returns from the shower, he cautiously changes behind his wardrobe cabinet to avoid Joey, even if he is sleeping with headphones still in his ears and music still playing.

He squeezes into the tightest pair of black jeans that he owns but rarely wears for the reason of feeling self-conscious; he can hardly breathe in them. But he checks himself out in the full length mirror in his closet and thinks maybe he can impress someone tonight.

Maybe that someone will be Darren.

No, he’s supposed to forget about him tonight: those gorgeous eyes, that charming smile, and that mesmerizing voice. He’s forgetting and he’s drinking and dancing.

But he doesn’t dance or drink, so tonight will definitely be interesting.

He sighs and picks out a dark t-shirt with the Star Wars logo on it and Chewbacca pictured below that. It’ll have to do since he wants to stay casual. He also throws on a pair of sneakers that look decent enough with the rest of it.

After he cajoles Joey to wake up, Joey insists on showering as well, so Chris has nothing to do but wait. He nervously checks himself out in the mirror and experiments with his hair. He combs it every which way and nothing looks right. Then he gives up and sits down in his chair, wondering why he should even go to this party; he’s perfectly happy writing or watching cat videos on his laptop in his dorm. Why ruin it?

Then he thinks of that dark, curly head of hair and the guy that goes with it, and if he’ll be there. Maybe it’ll be okay to just glance at him from afar and imagine what could be. That would probably be the closest he’ll ever get to a guy like that. Or maybe they’ll talk and become friends and Chris can see that face up close much more often. 

He realizes again that he’s thinking too much about a guy he can never have and he should just let it go now before it hurts him more than it already has. Yeah, it’ll be good to let Darren go.

Joey slams the door shut, breaking Chris from his thoughts.

“I’ll be ready in a few, Chris, if you want to join me,” Joey offers, still wrapped in a towel.

Chris glances up at his face, careful not to get caught staring by two guys in less than half an hour. 

“Well, I’m not dressed up for my health,” Chris points out. “So yeah, I’d like to go.”

“Awesome! I bet this will be a night you’ll never forget.”

“I sure hope so,” Chris replies, tapping his fingers on the desk.

He hopes to forget something, or someone at least, once and for all. 


	2. Chapter 2

This red plastic cup filled with something that he heard someone call jungle juice is sure helping him do just that. He’s even dancing, by himself, since Joey abandoned him to find his friends twenty minutes ago, and he’s not brave enough to ask anyone to dance with him.

Joey hung out with Chris long enough to help him find out where the drinks were and to watch him finish two of them; he had said he would return eventually and Chris still hopes that’s true.

In any case, he’s having fun in this random guy’s apartment just off campus, swaying to the music and even singing along to some of the lyrics.

_“I got a feelin’ that tonight’s gonna be a good night...”_ he sings.

Luckily, the music is loud enough that no one can hear him but he hopes the words ring true and that something happens. It starts with a girl bumping his shoulder.

“Hey, you look like you’re having fun,” she remarks. “How’s that drink?”

He looks up to notice she’s a few inches shorter than him, with dark eyes, dark, wavy hair, and tan skin. She’s also holding a bottle of water.

Chris grimaces. “My throat is on fire but there’s a hint of fruity aftertaste so that helps, I guess.”

“That what’s happens when you mix a dash of fruit punch with cheap vodka. It does the job but it tastes pretty awful. I take it that it’s your first time drinking it.”

Chris gulps down another sip and nods. “It’s my first semester here. I just transferred and I haven’t been to a lot of parties, here or anywhere, really.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” She shrugs. “Just be careful. That stuff sneaks up on you.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“I wish someone had told me that so I figured I’d pass the info along. I’m Jenna, by the way.”

“Chris,” he offers, holding out his hand. 

She gingerly takes it and then lets go. “Nice to meet you. Do you know your major?”

“Yeah, creative writing,” he yells over the music. “I heard this school was really good for that and I wanted to experience somewhere very far away from home.”

“I understand that. I didn’t grow up around here either. Decided to study theatre for a change of scenery. I’ll be graduating this semester and heading back to New York though.”

Chris perks up at the mention of theatre and the city. He’s been there once before on a family trip and he’s been itching to go back and see more Broadway shows, if not try his hand at acting in one. There’s bound to be a place there for him in that world, or maybe there will be a publishing company that will love his book. He feels destined for something creative and New York would be just the place, if he could get there.

“Oh, back to New York? Really?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, I grew up in Long Island and wanted to head to the city for acting, but the ‘rents said I needed an education first. So I ended up here, of all places,” she explains before sipping from her water.

“That’s really cool. I bet you’ll take the world by storm,” Chris tells her.

“That’s the plan.” She laughs. “Hope the writing thing works out for you.”

“Me too.” He swallows down what’s left in his cup and then admits, “I’d love to act, too, honestly. Writing is my first love but acting would be great.”

“Then write your own screenplay or something after your first book makes it big,” she suggests. “I’m sure you can make both work. I mean, you’re here, aren’t you? The sky’s the limit.”

Chris blinks and thinks about it. That might just be the only way he ever gets to act in something: if he writes it. Combining his two loves could just be exactly what he needs, along with a friend like Jenna.

“That is an amazing idea, Jenna. I think you’re onto something.” He clinks his empty cup against her half-filled water bottle.

“No problem. If you can’t dream now, then when can you?” She offers.

Annoyingly enough, his mind flashes to Darren’s smile and those warm, hazel eyes. He can dream all he wants about that, too, even if his career dreams are more likely to come true than a future with him would. He can feel himself frowning at that.

Jenna jolts him out of his thoughts when she leans in to whisper in his ear, “I know I warned you about the dangers of jungle juice, but do you want to do a shot? You look like you could use one.”

“Oh my God, yes please,” he agrees.

She drags him through the crowd of people to the kitchen where she pours a small amount of a gold liquid into two separate red plastic cups.

“The key is not to sip it,” she advises. “Just drink it when I tell you.”

“Got it.”

After she counts to three and says “go,” he downs it quickly. It tastes a bit salty and burns more than the other drink did but he’s not complaining. He feels a pleasant buzzing and almost forgets about Darren. But then he stares at the glass bottle holding what’s left of the gold liquid he just drank. It kind of reminds him of Darren’s eyes.

Jenna throws an arm around his shoulder. “So I know we just met and all, but do you want to talk about whatever’s going on? You looked like you kinda went somewhere.” 

Chris shakes his head and gestures toward the bottle. “Give me some more of that stuff.”

“Okay. I want you to know that I won’t judge you. I’ve seen some things and I’ve even done some things, so I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever you dish out,” she reassures him. “But if you need tequila, we can do that, too.”

He throws back his shot almost as soon as she pours them both. Then he smiles at her. “Thanks. That was exactly what I needed.”

“Same here. Don’t mention it. We could totally finish the bottle. I’m sure no one will miss it.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Jenna grabs the bottle off the counter and heads out of the kitchen. Chris prepares to follow but then, Jenna bumps into Chris’ roommate, with the exact person he didn’t want to see.

“Oh, um, hey, Joe.” She coughs. “Great to see you again.”

Joey raises his eyebrows at her. “You, too. It’s been too long. Anyway, I see you’ve met my new roomie.”

Jenna looks at Chris and then back to Joey. “He’s your roommate? We were just chatting for a bit. He’s pretty cool.”

Chris blushes, glad to have met someone so nice, even if she may or may not have a questionable history with Joey.

Joey grins at Chris. “Yeah, he’s alright. Glad I convinced him to come.”

“I am having fun, even if you left me ages ago,” Chris says with mild annoyance.

“Whatever, man. You’re in good hands,” he addresses Chris and then winks. He looks back to Jenna. “I’m glad he took Darren’s spot. Someone had to, since he became the resident asshole. I mean, advisor.”

“Hey, I’m right here!” Darren exclaims in lieu of a greeting to Jenna or Chris. “At least now I get paid to be an asshole.”

Jenna defends Darren, surprisingly. “I don’t blame you for doing it. I should have, too. Great to see you again, Dare.”

Chris looks at Darren but then he looks down, wondering how to process all this brand new information in his alcohol-soaked brain. Jenna knows Joey and Darren, Joey is friends with Darren, and Chris took Darren’s spot as Joey’s roommate after Darren became an RA. This is all too much. He needs another shot.

Darren finally greets her with, “You too, Jen Jen.” 

Then Chris feels a tap against his hand. 

“And you, Chris,” Darren addresses him. “Cool shirt.”

Chris can’t help but look back up into those hazel eyes, now a bit glassy but still just as dreamy. 

“I, um, yeah. Thanks,” Chris stutters. “See you around.”

Darren smirks. “You bet. Maybe I’ll catch you later?”

Chris bites his lip, most definitely not focusing on Darren’s pretty, pink mouth.

“Yeah, maybe,” Chris manages.

Luckily, Jenna links her arm in his and speaks up before anyone else. “We should get going. We were just going to work on the rest of this Cuervo, weren’t we, Chris?”

“Wait, we should catch up too, Jen,” Joey adds. 

“We’ll see,” Jenna hedges. “C’mon, Chris.”

She pulls Chris away from the two and walks away, bringing Chris to sit on the couch in the living room, not too far from where they met.

Jenna sighs. “More shots are definitely in order.”

She swigs right from the bottle before handing it to Chris.

“So, Darren, huh?” She asks over the music, a song from Britney’s latest album blaring.

_“Boy, don’t try to front, uh, I know just, just, what you are, ah, ah...”_

His palms sweat as he sips from the bottle and buys time for an answer.

“I saw the way he looked at you,” Jenna tells him. “It’s okay if you’re into him. No judgement. Like I said, I’ve made some choices. It doesn’t make a difference to me.”

He finally swallows. “The way he looked at me? What do you mean?” 

“I saw you look at him. Right before that, he was looking at you. Did something happen?”

“No, not really. I mean, maybe. I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”

“I don’t think it is, Chris. If you like guys, or even if you just like him, you should know that he goes that way. He goes all kinds of ways, if you didn’t know,” Jenna explains. “I’ve had a few classes with him and we’ve been at a few cast parties together after productions in the theatre department. I’ve seen him in action.”

Chris’ eyes widen as he passes the bottle to Jenna. “In action? Really?”

Jenna takes the bottle. “I mean, he’s very flirty. With guys and girls. That’s how he is. So I wouldn’t doubt that he’s into you.”

Chris takes the bottle back and slams a few sips back, trying to comprehend everything that Jenna has told him. Has Chris been reading this entire situation wrong? Has Darren been flirting with him this entire time? How has he not seen it?

Instead of asking anything out loud, Chris simply sits there in contemplation, letting Jenna take the bottle from him and drink from it. He believes that Jenna is telling the truth, but how can he trust that a guy like Darren would like him? It seems like he can, and does, have plenty of people, from what Jenna said.

“You’re thinking too much for someone who just drank a bunch of tequila, Chris,” Jenna starts, nudging her knee against his own. “Go find him.”

Chris grips the bottle of tequila tightly, thinking about the now more realistic possibility of something happening with Darren. It would be easier to just stay here and not risk his heart. Plus, he’s curious about Jenna’s relationship to Joey. So he takes another drink and passes the bottle to Jenna.

“I will, but first, what about you and Joey?” Chris wonders.

It’s Jenna turn to take a shot and then answer with a question of her own. “Why do you think I’m drinking this? That’s a story for another time.”

He really wants to know, but he doesn’t press the issue. “So can we hang out again, then?”

“Yeah, sure. You have a phone?” Jenna asks.

Chris pulls out his cell phone, a brand new touch screen phone that his mom had just bought him for Christmas. Then he finds the text messages and starts a blank one. After that, he hands the phone to Jenna to type in her number and a quick message, which she does.

“Thanks. It’s been nice,” Chris tells her genuinely. “I’ll text you so you have my number.”

“Cool,” Jenna replies. “You have to let me know what happens. I’m telling you there’s something there, Chris.”

Chris texts Jenna back from his phone with a message saying, _“Hey, it’s Chris from the party.”_

Then he puts his phone back in his pocket and looks over at her. “Hopefully that’s not just the tequila talking.”

“I promise it’s not. You got this.” She gives him a high five. “Go get your man.”

He stands up, using his hand on Jenna’s leg as leverage. The room seems tilted but he feels like flying, like he could face Darren and it will be okay. He’s already pleasantly surprised at the new developments about Darren, which spring him into trying exactly what Jenna urges him to do.

But first, all that drinking has taken a toll. He needs to find a bathroom.

Chris leans down, clutches Jenna’s arm, and whispers in her ear, “I’ll see you later.”

“Much later, I hope,” she responds with a laugh. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” 

He lets go of her and carefully heads out of the living room, past the crowd of girls dancing and group of people playing beer pong on a long folding table, towards the hallway where he hopes to find what he’s looking for.

There’s a line for the bathroom with one guy ahead of him, so he waits for him to go in and finish. Once the guy comes out and then Chris relieves himself, he’s met with a familiar sound coming from the room right next to the bathroom.

It’s a guitar strumming and Darren singing a song that Chris thinks he might’ve heard on the oldies station that his grandma sometimes listens to, or maybe it was in a Broadway show.

_“I love you, baby. And if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights. I love you, baby...”_

Darren’s voice soars on the first few words, with so much more heart than Chris had heard earlier today in the shower, or any other time he’s heard Darren sing, really. 

Chris strides closer until he’s in the doorway, watching Darren sitting on the floor with a guitar in his lap. Darren’s fingers move so expertly across the strings that he wonders how skilled Darren could be using his hands in other ways. Then he keeps watching as Darren’s hair flops over his forehead and his fingers change positions.

_“Oh, pretty baby, don’t let me down, I pray,”_ Darren goes on. _“Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you stay. And let me love you. Oh, let me love you.”_

Darren continues to play a few wild, frantic chords before abruptly stopping.

“Don’t-don’t stop,” Chris blurts out, giving away his presence. 

Darren looks up at him and grins, but his expression quickly fades. “Hey, didn’t know you were there. Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Chris comes into the room, stepping a few feet closer to Darren. “That was lovely.”

“Could’ve fooled me, with the way you ran off with Jenna earlier. I didn’t think you’d want to hear anything I had to say.” Darren looks back down and absently strums at the strings. “You took off pretty fucking fast.”

“I-I was having fun with my new friend. I didn’t want to leave her,” he half-lies, not wanting to betray his true feelings for Darren. “Also I discovered tequila.”

“That’s a discovery you shouldn’t have made. Trust me.” He chuckles wryly, still not looking at Chris.

“Why do you care so much, Darren?” He asks pointedly. “It’s not like we’re friends or anything. You’re my RA. We’ve barely spoken aside from when I first moved in and today.”

“Well, yeah, but it’d be pretty rad if we could change that. I mean, I’d like to get to know you a little better.” Darren taps the body of the guitar absently. “We could talk now.”

Chris stares at Darren’s pink spit-slick mouth for a moment and wants so much more than talking. But he doesn’t say that out loud. 

Instead he simply agrees. “Yeah, I-I’d like that.”

“Cool.” Darren pats the floor next to him. “C’mere and sit awhile.”

Chris squeezes into the space on the floor next to Darren, unable to resist his request. He sits with his knees bent and his feet flat, leaning his back against the wall.

It’s so nice to get a view of Darren from this close, so he studies every feature that he can without abandon. He can see the slight ridge in his nose and the bit of scruff along his jawline that he can’t help wanting to nuzzle against.

Then Chris gestures toward the guitar. “So, um, what’s with the solo session? There’s a party going on out there.”

Darren laughs, his cheeks flushing adorably. “I’m well aware of that. I just needed to get away for a bit. Needed some quality time with my dear Betsy here.”

Chris raises an eyebrow and notes the choice in name. “Betsy, huh?”

Darren nods. “I wanted to just be with her for a little while. I needed a break from keg stands and tequila shots.”

“Hey, Jenna and I took the tequila! And you said I shouldn’t have,” Chris chides.

“Oh, there’s definitely more than one bottle floating around. And I didn’t say I wouldn’t ever drink tequila. I can probably hold my liquor better than you can.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chris smiles. “You want to bet?”

Darren shakes his head. “Nope, because you’ll totally lose. Plus, I’m supposed to kind of be looking out for you, not encouraging underage drinking.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

Chris holds out his hand and Darren shakes it, his touch just as warm and inviting as it was the day they met. Regrettably, Darren lets go.

“Deal,” Darren confirms. “But I kinda don’t want to move from this spot. It’s nice in here, especially with you.”

Now it’s Chris’ turn to blush. “What about Betsy?”

Darren shrugs and then turns away briefly to set the guitar against the wall next to him. “We’re not exclusive. Besides, my guitar back home, Greg, would be kind of jealous.”

Chris’ mouth drops open but he closes it again before Darren can see.

Darren turns back toward him, those honey eyes pointedly meeting his. “You should know I don’t discriminate when it comes to gender.”

Chris takes a second, attempting to connect his comment to Jenna’s observations a little while ago, but his brain feels fuzzy, especially with those eyes still gazing at him.

Chris blinks before finally answering. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

“It can be. There a lot of pretty awesome people out there. It’d be a shame to miss out on one because of mainstream societal expectations. It’s amazing what you find when you keep your mind open to the possibilities.”

Darren cups a hand over Chris’ knee and Chris freezes.

“Do you, um, feel any possibilities, Chris?” Darren asks, his thumb now slowly moving back and forth along Chris’ knee.

“Yes,” Chris affirms. 

“That’s good to know, because I’ve been feeling that way ever since I saw you.”

“You-you have?”

“Of course. How could I not? You’re pretty cute. I invited you to stop by my room and I was really hoping you’d take me up on it, and not because of any official RA business, if you catch my drift.”

“I, um, I don’t know-I-” Chris stammers. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“There’s always time for fun, Chris. That’s why you’re here, right?”

Darren’s hand drifts further down Chris’ thigh and Chris feels arousal stirring low in his belly. All Chris can do is nod.

“Is that okay? Tell me if I’m out of line or whatever.”

“You’re fine. More than fine,” Chris replies, glancing down at the touch and sort of hoping his hand will go further.

However, he’s not sure how he’d handle that if Darren did. There’s a flame flickering inside him and they haven’t even kissed.

Oh, my God, Darren, the guy whose voice he’s come to know over the last few weeks, and whose body he’s gotten glimpses of, the crush so out of his orbit, could kiss him, right here and right now.

And what if it’s bad? What if Chris has to walk down the hallway to go to the bathroom and avoid him the rest of the semester? What if he sees Darren going in and out of his room with other people who are clearly not there for RA business? This could go so, so wrong.

But, as Darren smirks at him, he realizes it could go so, so right. He finds that out when Darren finally answers him.

“Good, because I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Suddenly, Darren leans in, angling his body toward Chris and lightly brushing his lips against Chris’ own. Then, he presses a little harder, with near perfect, practiced pressure and almost the right amount of softness. But Chris wants more, so he slides his hand along Darren’s cheek, his thumb grazing the scruff at his jaw. Darren inhales harshly before the slightest bit of tongue slips across the seam of Chris’ lips, causing the flame inside him to burn brighter.

Chris opens his mouth wider, allowing Darren inside. Darren’s tongue takes the invitation, exploring there while his hand trails down Chris’ thigh to his hip. Darren kneels on the floor to get closer, his other hand cradling Chris’ jaw tenderly. Meanwhile, Chris’ free hand grasps Darren’s fingers where they lie on his hip, holding them tightly to ground him in reality. He tastes a slight hint of bitterness on Darren’s tongue that could be cheap beer, but he doesn’t care because Darren, who actually likes him back, is here, kissing him like he wants him, too.

Chris’ dick rises to attention and he figures now might be a good time to stop, but he doesn’t want to, not when he might not ever have this again. Luckily, Darren breaks away first, breathing out against Chris’ mouth. Chris chases it with a peck though, already addicted to the taste.

“Glad I was open to the possibilities, Darren,” Chris says cheekily, his head pleasantly floating in a way that he’s pretty sure is not all because of jungle juice and tequila.

“Me too. I’m glad both of us were. Because that was pretty fucking awesome and I’d like to do it again.”

“So much for talking.”

“Talking is overrated.”

Darren dives back in, still cupping Chris’ cheek with one hand while the other hand stiffens in Chris’ hold. He kisses with less control this time and a lot of tongue instantly. But it still feels nice, like a slow burning flame dancing higher and higher. With that, however, Chris’ jeans feel tighter and he probably won’t be able to move from this spot any time soon. It’s okay because he kind of doesn’t want this night to end just yet.

So he melts into Darren’s touch, reveling in how his fingertips slide along his jaw and further down his neck, grazing the spot of raised skin there. This makes his pants tighten further so he squeezes the fingers in his grasp like a vise.

Darren instantly jumps back in alarm. “Oh, my God? Are you okay? I’m sorry if I got a little carried away.”

“I’m really, really okay. I just have been imagining this for a long time so I’m feeling a little too eager, if you know what I mean.” His face flushes hot with embarrassment.

Darren strokes Chris’ cheek and smiles. “God, you’re so fucking adorable. I’m glad I’m doing something right then.”

Chris’ stomach flutters as arousal burns low inside him at the touch. “Yes, yes, you are.”

Darren’s hand trails down Chris’ neck and stops at his shoulder. He glances down before looking back up at Chris and making a suggestion. 

“Hey, um, do you want to get out of here? We don’t have to do anything. It’s just that it’s much quieter back at the dorm and we could hang out there. In the lounge, even, if you want. I really do want to get to know you better, if you’re still down for that.”

“Yes, of course. I would love that, Darren.” He’s still holding Darren’s other hand when he mentions one potential problem. “You sure Betsy’s not jealous?”

Darren’s cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink, making him impossibly cuter. “I think there’s room for one more. She’ll understand.”

Before Chris can realize it, he reaches out and kisses the tip of Darren’s nose.

“I couldn’t help it. It was there,” Chris reasons.

“You don’t need to apologize. I make no promises that I won’t do the same.”

“That’s good to know.”

As Darren helps him up and then grabs his guitar, Chris can’t believe that this is his first experience of a college party, that this is his life, far from the podunk town he left behind. He has a friend and now, maybe he has Darren, if he’s lucky.

So far, this has been a night he’ll never forget and he can’t wait to continue it. 


	3. Chapter 3

Darren stops to find a few people and say goodbye, one of them including Joey, who raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“What did I tell you, Chris?”

He thinks of when he was reluctant to go to the party and Joey told him earlier:

_“You can thank me later, when you’re getting laid.”_

As they walk back to the dorm, hand in hand, and Darren with his guitar on his back, Darren asks him what Joey meant. 

“Oh, nothing,” Chris returns, his face feeling hot again. “He was encouraging me to go out tonight and offered me an interesting possible incentive that I probably won’t entertain.” 

“Ooh, mysterious,” Darren comments, swinging their joined hands between them. “Is that what made you want to come to the party in the first place?”

“Maybe. I’m glad I took his encouragement to heart, at least.”

“Me too. Otherwise, you probably would have stayed in your room, huh?”

“How do you know?”

“I’m right down the hall, Chris. If you don’t close your door all the way when I’m there, I notice. And you’re there more than you’re not. Not that I’m complaining, except that you never stop by.”

Chris thinks of the times he’s walked down the hallway to the bathroom and has caught Darren singing. He’s lingered in the bathroom and nearby to listen but he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt, not wanting his burgeoning crush to flourish even further.

“I didn’t want to intrude,” Chris tells him.

“Nonsense. Since I’m the RA, you can literally stop by anytime you want, for any reason. I’d always let you in, Chris.” 

Darren bumps his shoulder and continues. “Sometimes I make the chronic complainers stick a note under my door so I don’t have to deal with their bullshit right away, but I’d definitely want to see you face to face.”

“Well, you’re seeing me now.”

“And that’s fucking great. You need to make a habit of it and we’ll be golden.” 

Now that Chris knows that Darren likes him, he will stop by his room more often, if only for the promise of some more kisses, or maybe one of those late night lullabies that have been growing on him.

“Sure,” Chris promises. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” Darren agrees as they make way to the door of their building. He slides his student ID card through the slot by the door to enter and opens the door for Chris, sadly letting go of his hand. But Darren’s fingers brush against the small of his back as Chris enters, the slight touch sending shivers through Chris.

Then they stop when they get to Chris’ door, with Darren standing in front of him.

Darren bounces on his toes for a moment before stilling. “So, um, here’s where I could do the gentlemanly thing, or the polite human thing or whatever, and drop you off and kiss you goodnight. Do you want me to do that?”

Chris shakes his head. “I would like a kiss but I don’t want to say goodnight. I thought you wanted to hang out.”

Darren obliges him with an all-too-brief press of his lips to Chris’ own.

“I do,” Darren responds, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes dart to Chris’ mouth. “Wanted to make sure you were still up for it. So, your place or mine?”

“Yours,” Chris answers quickly. “You don’t have a pesky roommate.”

“True,” Darren concedes. “Even if it is Joey, and he probably won’t be back for a while. I love the kid to death but I’d rather hang out with you alone.”

Although Darren did say they didn’t have to do anything, Chris does consider what could happen when he’s alone with Darren, given their mutual feelings. If it involves more of what has happened, he has to agree.

“Yeah, I’m with you there,” Chris replies. “Lead the way.”

They walk side by side, with Darren’s warm hand resting between his shoulder blades. But then he lets go again to fish the key to his door out of his pocket. 

Chris chooses to ask him about the signs on his door - the Italian flag, the music notes and the drama and comedy theatre masks.

“Oh, those kind of represent me,” Darren explains as the key clicks in the lock and his door opens. “Sometimes people decorate their doors, including the RAs. I’m majoring in Theatre, and I sing and play music, which is one of my minors. Oh, and I’m also minoring in Italian. Just got back late last year from studying abroad in Arezzo, a cute little countryside village.”

Chris’ eyes widen as he takes in all this new information, and Darren’s room as he follows Darren inside. There’s a poster for a band called Radiohead, which is next to a movie poster for the original Star Wars, and to the right of that are some cutouts from magazines, including one of what looks like a woman but could be a man in garish makeup and heels. On the right side of his room is a twin bed with rumpled, half-made sheets and on the left side, there’s a wardrobe with a desk next to it, like in Chris’ room. The desk has a small lamp on it, a bunch of files in a vertical organizer, and papers scattered on top of the surface of the desk. But there isn’t a second desk, wardrobe, or bed. Instead, a mini fridge with a microwave on top of it, along with a bean bag chair next to that, occupy part of the space where another bed would be, if this were like any other room. 

Chris blinks in amazement, slightly jealous that Darren doesn’t have to share a space with anyone and this is all his. Darren’s personality clearly shines through on the walls as well; between that and the designs on the door, Chris is more intrigued than ever.

As Darren takes his guitar off his back and sets it in the empty corner, Chris isn’t sure what to comment on first.

He settles on the courses of study that Darren mentioned first, including Italy. “So, the Italian countryside? How was that?”

Darren grabs Chris’ hand and pulls him toward the middle of the room. “Studied some theatre shit and actually put my Italian to good use. It was fucking beautiful to be honest. The people, the surroundings, everything. I kind of miss it sometimes but I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.”

“You speak Italian?”

Darren nods and then chuckles. “I studied it here. Some theatre forms started there so I thought it could be a good companion to a Theatre major, but really, it was an excuse to study abroad.”

“I see. I doubt I could study abroad with my major.”

Darren squeezes his hand and Chris gulps, that familiar heat returning. “Oh, yeah? What are you studying?”

“Creative Writing. I told you I was a writer. That’s what I decided to major in.”

“Right. Cool. So you write, like, stories and stuff?” Darren asks curiously. 

“Yeah. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved writing,” he admits, staring into Darren’s eyes, which are studying him intently.

“That’s pretty fucking awesome that you can really channel your passion and hone it here. That’s my plan, too. Trouble is, I can’t narrow it down to just one thing.”

“That’s okay. If you love them all, why settle?” Chris reasons.

“My thoughts exactly. I knew I liked you as more than just a pretty face.”

With Darren’s hand still in his, Chris can feel himself blushing again. 

“Thanks, I guess,” Chris says, unsure of how to respond.

“Don’t mention it. So, uh, since we’ve been standing here and I have a perfectly good bed, how about we get comfortable? Have a seat, I mean.”

“Sure,” Chris answers, nerves coursing through him. 

He’s never been on a bed with a boy he likes. Sure, a few of them back home were attractive but they were all idiots that he couldn’t bear getting anywhere near. They were nice to look at but left something to be desired in the brains department, not to mention some were bullies as well. As for Darren, he’s nice to look at, too, but he’s definitely not a bully or an idiot. After all, it’s Darren’s soothing voice that brings him back to reality.

“Don’t worry,” Darren assures him as he leads him to the bed. “We can relax and do whatever’s comfortable for you, like I said. I’m cool with just hanging out.”

They sit next to each other with their backs against the wall, Darren’s thigh touching his own. Chris can’t breathe, especially when Darren lets go of his hand and places his hand flat on the middle of Chris’ thigh.

“I like being near you. That’s all,” Darren continues. “Glad we could break the ice, so to speak.”

“Ahh, the wonders of jungle juice and tequila.” Chris laughs nervously. 

“I’m amazed you’re still upright, considering that.” Darren’s hand rubs his thigh and Chris tenses.

He remembers the way Darren’s lips taste and how his bare, golden-toned chest glistened while it dripped with water. Then he remembers how he looks, pale and barely out of puberty, and wonders how Darren could even notice him. But he has, and they’re alone and Chris wants him.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Darren wonders, pausing his movements. “I can totally stop or like, move further away. Or we can go to the lounge down at the end of the hall, get some space.”

“I told you, I’m good,” Chris tells him. “I don’t need space. That’s the last thing I want, Darren.”

“So I’m guessing that you don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Talking is overrated.” Chris smirks, repeating Darren’s earlier sentiment.

“Too bad, because I think I want to talk now. It’s kinda what I’ll be doing for a living so I’d like to practice it a bit, especially with you.”

Chris groans. “You’re no fun.”

“Oh, but I will be.” Darren grins, tapping his fingertips on Chris’ thigh. “How about we play a little game?”

“What kind of game?”

“I’m going to ask you a question about yourself and for every one you answer, you get one kiss. Wherever I choose,” Darren suggests. “Above the waist, since we’re still getting to know each other.”

“And what about if I ask you a question?”

“Same rules apply,” Darren states. “This way, we both get what we want.”

“I’m betting you still wanted to kiss me regardless,” Chris claims, the flame inside him flickering once more.

Darren shrugs. “Whatever. Wins all around. Are you down or not?”

“Of course I am. Fire away.”

“Okay. Awesome.” Darren pats Chris’ thigh again and thinks for a moment. “Let’s start with the easy stuff. Where were you born?”

“Clovis, California.”

“No shit! I was born in San Fran. That’s pretty fucking rad.”

“Yeah, well, Clovis isn’t but I don’t want to get into that right now. I’d rather you kiss me.”

“Fine. Have it your way. I’ll save a question about that for later.” 

Darren’s mouth falls slightly open, his tongue peeking out. He looks up and down Chris’ face and torso, his fingers absently drawing circles on Chris’ jeans. Chris is tempted to lean in and forget the silly game but then Darren presses his lips to a spot beside Chris’ collar.

A thrill runs through him, nearly igniting the flame. He blinks for a moment, realizing Darren is staring at him in anticipation. 

“Oh, right, a question,” Chris remembers. “You were born in San Francisco, but were you raised there?”

“Pretty much. We moved to Hawaii for a few years when I was a kid but I barely remember. I spent kindergarten through high school in the Bay Area.”

“Okay. Interesting,” he answers succinctly, plotting his next move.

He considers all the places on Darren’s skin he has yet to kiss that are within the rules. He remembers what Darren’s scruff felt like on his fingertips when they kissed earlier and thinks that’s a good place to start.

He tentatively leans in and cups one side of Darren’s chin.

“Is touching against the rules?” Chris asks.

Darren lets out a harsh breath before answering. “We did not establish that, so no. We kind of already broke that if it was.”

“Good.”

Chris bravely plants his lips on a free spot of Darren’s jaw, then grazes against the scruff there. It scratches against his mouth but the sound that Darren makes is more than enough for Chris to want to kiss him there again.

When Chris pulls back, Darren’s eyes darken but he still continues the pretense of the game.

Darren follows up with, “Did you-did you grow up in Clovis?”

“Up until last fall, yeah,” Chris manages, Darren’s eyes still on him.

“Cool.” 

Darren’s hand wraps around Chris’ thigh and he searches Chris’ face before he leans in, choosing a spot close to the last one but slightly below the scar on Chris’ neck. His mouth opens a little more than last time, sucking there for a bit.

Chris flexes his fingers where they rest on Darren’s knee in an attempt to hold back, accepting what Darren gives him. Darren brings his legs up from where they hang off the bed and turns his body toward Chris’ to get a better angle. He keeps sucking there as Chris’ hand falls away from his body. He hopes Darren doesn’t stop because he’s not sure he has any thoughts left to come up with another question for this game.

Luckily, Darren sucks harder at the spot and works his way up to the scar, eliciting a moan from Chris. Darren kisses further up Chris’ neck and asks, “How’d you get the scar?”

“You-that counts as more than one kiss,” Chris breathes out. “Not fair.”

“Maybe, but I still want to know,” Darren whispers harshly. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Fine, but it’s not sexy and I get two questions,” Chris counters. 

“I don’t care. I’m curious. At least it’s fair, then,” Darren argues, his lips brushing the spot in question.

“And now I get three.”

“Thanks, scorekeeper. I’ll gladly accept that penalty if you answer.”

“Infected lymph node when I was a kid. Had me laid up for three months.”

“Must have been a drag.” Darren drags his lips across that spot again, a sensation going straight to Chris’ cock.

“Mmm. It, um, it was but it got me into reading more, and writing. It was my escape from everything that was going on.” 

“Yeah? I could imagine. Were you going through some other shit too?” Darren wonders, nipping right below Chris’ earlobe.

With Darren’s hands now on his hips, Chris can’t think straight so he nods, until he remembers that Darren can’t see it. 

“Um, yeah. Family stuff and some stuff at school. Not very fun times,” Chris tells him vaguely, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“I’m sorry. I know I don’t know you that well, but you deserve better. We all gotta go through shit sometimes, I guess,” Darren comments before nuzzling down his neck.

“Yeah. I, uh, yeah. That’s nice, even though you screwed up your own game,” Chris notes.

“Don’t care. I like kissing you.” He presses a kiss to Chris’ collarbone to make his point. “Fuck the game.”

“Well, I like kissing you. Did you ever think of that?” Chris teases, his arousal stirring.

“Maybe. Sorry I’m being a bit selfish. It’s just that your neck is kind of irresistible.” He kisses and licks a path up Chris’ neck again.

“Fuck, Dare,” Chris curses quietly.

“Sounds like you like it, too.” He laughs, his thumbs stroking Chris’ hips. “And, uh, maybe I should give you a turn. If you want to ask me something, go ahead. I’m an open book. I’m also open to more kissing. That’s cool, too.”

Although Chris does like the position they’re in, he’s curious about Darren, and he wants to explore this new opportunity to kiss him. So he asks a question and lets Darren kiss up and down his neck.

“So, uh, what was that song you were singing earlier in the shower?”

Darren pauses and pulls back, his mouth wet and a pretty shade of red. Chris is so distracted by it that he almost misses Darren’s response.

“I haven’t quite perfected it. Just messing around with an idea that me and some friends came up with. I was actually talking to Joey and a few other people. We’re writing a little play, er, musical, that is about Harry Potter or whatever. It probably won’t be anything but if we get our shit together, we might put it on here on campus. They tapped me to write the songs. It’s still in the early stages, hence why I don’t have all the words.”

Chris’ mouth drops open in disbelief. Darren is good-looking, older, sings, acts, plays music, and he’s into Harry Potter? He didn’t think Darren could get any more attractive but somehow, with this new development, he has.

Chris can’t find words so Darren continues.

“I understand if you’re not into it. That’s not everyone’s thing or whatever. I’m alright with that.”

“No! Oh my God!” Chris exclaims. “Fantasy books were my favorite escape, especially Harry Potter! I can’t believe you’re doing that. I hope you can pull it off because I would totally watch that.”

Darren smiles proudly. “Really?”

“Yes! I made my parents drag me to book releases and midnight screenings of the movies. I got a bit emotional when the book series ended. I can’t imagine how I’ll feel when the films are done. Anyway, I could only hope to be half as good as J.K. Rowling. I kind of want to write in the fantasy realm, partially because of her.”

“That’s-Wow! Maybe you could be a sounding board as we’re working on this shit then.”

“I would love to,” Chris offers. “That means we’ll be hanging out a lot more often.”

“I’m entirely okay with that, especially if it means I get to kiss you more.”

“Speaking of kissing, I believe it’s my turn for that,” Chris reminds him.

“We are way past that but I’ll honor it. I’m a man of my word, dear Christopher.”

He had told Darren to call him Chris but he finds that he doesn’t mind it. In fact, as he surveys Darren and thinks about his next move, he likes it so much that he grins. 

“That’s not true,” Chris shoots back at him. “Because you already ruined your own game. We can pretend that it is though.”

Darren opens his mouth to say something, but Chris kisses him there, effectively shutting him up in the best way. Chris cradles his jaw, feeling the scruff against his fingers. The fire inside him burns hot as Darren melts into it, his thumbs digging into Chris’ hips. Chris is tempted to close the small gap between their bodies and take it further, especially when Darren’s tongue slips into his mouth, like before.

However, Chris breaks away, catching his breath as he rests his forehead against Darren’s own. He wants so much from Darren but he doesn’t want to be drunk while he’s doing it. He wants to know Darren better. Even if he likes what he does know, he can’t wait to find out more and help him with this upcoming project. It means more time to get even closer, which only bodes well for their future together.

He won’t have to walk out of Darren’s room tonight in shame, but rather with pride and satisfaction that he took a risk. He heard Darren singing and instead of avoiding him, he finally approached him, although it was at someone else’s place and with the aid of alcohol. Still, he’s glad he did and he can’t wait to see what happens next.

Until then, he shyly asks to cuddle on Darren’s bed and share his space a little longer after refusing to enter for so long. Of course, Darren obliges, hopefully as eager to see where this goes as Chris is.

His first semester away from home started out bleakly, especially with his reluctance to see what was right in front of him with Darren. But now, perhaps, it’s going to end up much brighter than he ever expected. 


End file.
